by Jeff Shaara
He said quietly, “My apologies, gentlemen, Lieutenant, uh … Grant. Please continue. Pay me no mind.”
He moved past the end of the line of troops, heard more orders, another call to formation, more profanity from the sergeants. There is an edge now, he thought, an urgency. This is not like the past few weeks. They are not just filling the time. They know the wait is over.
He moved closer to the group of officers, saw Worth now, watching him, tense, frowning. Worth said, “Didn’t expect to see you, Captain. Thought you’d be on the march.”
Lee saluted, said, “We’re pulling out shortly, sir. Sorry to intrude on your drill. Not their fault, sir.” Lee looked at the grim faces all watching him now, and then, one smile, the small man easing forward on the tall horse.
Lee nodded quickly, then said, “General Worth, with your permission, I was hoping for a brief moment with Captain Johnston.”
Worth was watching the drill again, made a motion with his hand, said, “Yes, yes, of course. Make it quick, Mr. Lee.”
Lee moved toward the side of the horses, saw Johnston dismount, and Johnston said quietly, “What are you doing here? Where’s your horse?”
Lee glanced at Johnston’s arm, said, “Couldn’t leave without at least making sure you didn’t hurt yourself again. The horse threw a shoe this morning. He’s being attended to.”
“Thought General Twiggs was supposed to be gone already. They waiting on you just so you could make a social call? Sounds like you’re holding up the war, Captain. General Twiggs will have your head.”
Lee smiled, said, “All right, Joe. Social call over. You’re right, I had better get back.” He paused, looked again at the arm, said, “You all right?”
“You writing home to my mother, Captain?” Johnston laughed.
Lee looked down, felt embarrassed again, said, “Sorry, Joe. I just wanted to be sure.…”
Johnston reached out, put a hand on his shoulder, and Lee felt awkward. He wanted to pull away, thought, This is ridiculous. You shouldn’t have come here.
Now Worth said, “This isn’t some gathering for the general staff. Captain Johnston, if you intend to lead infantry in this army, you will pay more attention to drill and less to socializing! Captain Lee, don’t you have somewhere to be?”
Johnston was looking at Lee, said aloud, “Right away, sir!” He nodded, said quietly, “Thank you, Robert. Get going, before we’re both in trouble. Keep your head down. No more heroics.”
Lee wanted to say something, watched Johnston move to the horse, climb up, saw a small grimace cross Johnston’s face.
He saluted Worth, said, “With your permission, sir.”
Worth returned the salute without looking at him, said nothing, and Lee moved quickly away. He walked back near the drilling troops, heard Lieutenant Grant shout an order, saw the troops suddenly wheel about in perfect precision, the muskets moving in rhythm, the men now standing at rigid attention. Grant did not look at him, and Lee slipped back down the narrow street, thought again of West Point, the impatient grumbling from exhausted young men who endured the marching and formation because they had to. They understand now, he thought, the drills, the discipline. Now, we’re an army.
AUGUST TENTH
The road wound up through the mountains, an endless snaking trail of rocks and potholes, and no one still called it a highway. Lee rode back behind the staff and the flag bearers. He had learned quickly what they all knew, that Twiggs did not want company. There would be no quiet conversation. He could see Twiggs up front, tall in the saddle, staring ahead, and Lee thought, What goes through his mind? What must it be like for the veterans, the men who have seen so much of this? We march behind him, and have no idea what is up there beyond those mountains. He knows as little as we do, but he stares ahead like it’s all been done before, as though there are no surprises. Even General Scott believes this is simple, just march to the capital and show them the strength, the guns, and the war is over. He thought of Worth now, back in the square drilling his troops. He was nervous, that was obvious. But … he’s always nervous, and General Scott has no patience for it. Maybe this is a good time to be nervous.
He felt a sudden chill, a sharp breeze blowing right into his coat. He looked out toward a tall ragged hill, then beyond, great pointed mountains, their peaks covered in snow. August, he thought. They call these mountains the Rio Frio, Cold River. The snow never completely melts. These hills look the same as they did when Cortez came through here, maybe that same patch of snow. He looked at Twiggs again, thought, Was Cortez like that, matter-of-fact, march straight into the fight? He had to be, I suppose. He knew far less than we do about what’s up ahead. He had to believe God was with him, protecting his men. We’re not so different after all.
THE AIR WAS MUCH COOLER NOW, AND LEE PULLED HIS COAT tightly around him. He kept his head down and stared at the mane of the horse, rocking with the slow rhythm of the march. They had moved uphill all day, still twisting around the sharp hills, the road even worse as the climb took them higher. The green of the farms was gone now, the land barren, gray, the vegetation in small clumps, short thick brush that hugged the cold rocks. There were few civilians now as well, a handful on horseback, men leading mules packed high with supplies, some for trade, some for survival, all standing aside patiently while this foreign army marched through their rugged and angry terrain.
Behind him the division had begun to spread out, and so the march had to slow, allow the men on foot to keep pace, prevent anyone from falling out. Even in the tall hills there would be bandits or guerrillas, following the army at a distance. But the sergeants were quiet, and even the men with the sorest feet, the weakest legs, did not have to be told that there could be no stragglers. Far out in front, Harney’s cavalry patrol slipped around and through the ragged rocks, ready for the sudden assault, prepared for some attempt from Santa Anna to slow down the march. Lee had listened for it, the sudden flurry of muskets, but the only sounds were soft, the great rocks swept by the faint howl of cold wind, and the rhythmic clatter of tin cups and boot steps from the silent march of three thousand men.
There was a sudden calm, a brief respite from the chilling breeze. He sat up straight, flexed his shoulders to ease his tense muscles. He turned slowly to one side, when he heard a voice. He turned toward the front and saw Twiggs holding up his arm. The staff seemed to jump to attention, some men clearly waking up in the saddle, and from others a murmur of low voices. Lee kept watching Twiggs, saw him turn around, the first time all day he had seen his face. Twiggs glanced back at Lee, then looked at the men close behind him, said, “Order the march to halt. Only a moment.”
A bugle sounded beside Lee, and behind he could hear another, and another farther away down the line. He still looked at Twiggs, thought, What is it, why stop? Twiggs stared to the front again, spurred his horse, began to move forward, and Lee thought, Where’s he going? He’s alone. He moved up beside the staff officers, stopped next to an aide, a young man with a short red beard.
Lee quietly asked, “What’s he doing?”
The young man shook his head, said, “No idea. Looks like the road curves around that hill, then maybe falls away.” Lee saw Twiggs ride into the curve of the road before he stopped. He seemed to stare ahead, sitting motionless for a long minute. Lee wanted to say something to the aide, but the man seemed to understand and said, “Captain, if you want to go up there and ask him, it’s fine by me.”
Lee moved the horse forward, stopped near the front of the column, beside the man with the flag. Twiggs turned, looked back at the men, said, “At ease. Take a moment, gentlemen.”
The staff began to spread along the side of the road, some dismounting, briefly expressing their relief. Other men already started looking for someplace to stretch out on the cold ground. Lee still looked at Twiggs, thought, This is odd, there’s plenty of light left. Surely this is no place to make camp. He spurred the horse, moved away from the staff, thought, If he doesn’t want company … he
can tell me. I have to see. He moved up close to Twiggs, moved around the curve in the road, came out of the shadows, and suddenly stopped the horse, stared out to the west, looked up toward the sudden glare of the setting sun.
Beyond the last of the great mountains the ground fell away in a wide sweep, the road snaking away below into a vast plain. Lee could see patches of all shades of green, a scattering of farms and open fields dotted with brown and black, great herds of cattle and horses. Beyond them wide splashes of silver, reflecting the sunlight, a patchwork of shallow lakes, surrounded by grassy marshes. He tried to focus through the sharp sunlight, put his hand up to his brow. He could see strange shapes now, far across the wide valley, more mountains, great conical shapes and jagged points far in the distance, cutting into the harsh glare of the sun. The shadows were already beginning to spread across the valley, and now, beyond the farms, the fields and lakes, he could see a mass of darkness.
He remembered his field glasses and reached into the saddlebag, felt blindly through the cold leather, still staring out into the valley. When the glasses were in his hand, he raised them up and looked at the dark mass. The shapes came into focus, first the tall steeples riding on a vast sea of churches. He scanned, thought, Dozens … no, hundreds. Now he could make out the larger buildings, and around it all, a solid line of gray, a wall, like Vera Cruz, another fat stone wall. He stared for a long moment, felt his heart beating furiously in his chest. His excitement rising, he felt suddenly like laughing. He glanced at Twiggs, saw the stern face staring out across the amazing sight, the sunlight reflected on the old man’s ragged skin. Lee saw now there were tears on Twiggs’s cheeks. The old man did not look at him as he said quietly, “I have waited for this moment. I shall never forget this sight, Captain. The valley of Mexico. Anahuac. Out there, that gray mass. That is Mexico City.”
Lee felt something turn in his chest, looked again through the glasses, felt uncomfortable, thought, This is strange, an intrusion into some very private place. Maybe I shouldn’t be here. He was right to be out here alone. This means something to him, and it’s not for me to ask.
“Forgive me, sir. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
Twiggs stared ahead, said, “There are a few places on this earth a man was meant to see. One reason I became a soldier. Always thought the army gave you a chance to travel. Until now, didn’t work out that way. Nothing like this in Georgia.” He glanced at Lee now, said, “My home.”
Lee didn’t know what to say, had never heard Twiggs talk about anything but the fight. “Yes, sir. I’m from Virginia.”
Twiggs sat silently for a moment, and Lee shook his head, thought, He could certainly not care about that. Twiggs said, “The Shenandoah Valley?”
“Uh, no, sir. East.”
“The Shenandoah Valley, Captain. That’s another place you should see. Maybe not quite like this.”
“Yes, sir. The Shenandoah is a wonderful place.”
He still felt awkward, knew no one would believe him, especially not Johnston. Joe, he thought, you should be here, listening to General Twiggs. He could imagine the junior officers making their jokes, commenting rudely about the commanders, making fun of the odd traits, even Scott’s bluster and profanity, the nickname “Old Fuss and Feathers.” Lee stared out ahead, watched the sun moving lower into the far distant mountains, thought, No, let this be. There is no need for you to speak of a moment like this, no matter how people talk of General Twiggs. They have their jokes. Judge a man by more than that.
Twiggs sat silently for a moment, then said quietly, “You have something to do, Captain?”
Lee thought, No, not really … well, yes, of course. Time to move away, leave him alone. “Yes, sir. Forgive the intrusion, I’ll move back to the men.”
“I mean your duty, Captain. Reconnaissance, scouting the enemy’s position. General Scott will rely on you to tell him what we need to know. Our success may hinge on what you observe.”
Lee looked again toward the wide shadows spreading over the valley, said, “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
“Don’t thank me, thank Santa Anna. He let us march this far without doing anything to stop us. It was either a clever strategy or a stupid mistake. The farther we are from our base of supply on the coast, the more vulnerable we are. That could be his plan. If he doesn’t have sufficient defense to protect the city, then allowing us to advance could be his mistake. General Scott has no patience for the unknown. I suggest you find out what Santa Anna has in mind.”
Lee felt his throat tighten, said quietly, “Yes, sir. Of course.”
His mind began churning, thoughts of the new plan, the reconnaissance. Lee thought, He’s right. General Scott has said it. He will rely on me. The scouting will have to be complete and thorough and there can be no mistakes. We must find out what is truly in front of us. He gazed across the vast valley and thought of Cortez again. Yes, he must have seen this. And if he did not pause, did not admire this, it was a mistake. Lee put the glasses down, saw the sun settling low into the great faraway mountains. General Twiggs is right, this is a glorious place. And we must find out if they intend to fight for it.
15. LEE
AUGUST TWELFTH
HE SLIPPED THROUGH TALL GRASS, THE GROUND SOFT UNDER his feet, his boots already coated with the mud of the boggy marsh. Behind him the horse soldiers, his escort and protection, were pushing up close, waiting for him to point the way.
There was no need to maintain the kind of stealth they had employed at Cerro Gordo. Santa Anna knew where Scott’s army had camped, and Scott had suspected that the scouting parties might be attacked by Santa Anna’s cavalry, still a strong and dangerous force. But Lee could not just stand in the open, ride his horse straight up to the positions he was to observe. Here, the roads were high and straight and exposed to any kind of fire the Mexicans might offer. The land had once simply been a vast lake, drained of water by nature, and then by man. There were smaller lakes still, serving as a natural barrier to the city, and where the roads crossed, the ground beside them was deep in grass and mud. It was a difficult place to advance an army, and Lee understood the scouting would have to be precise, knew he would have to move up as close as the enemy would allow.
Lee’s escort was led by one of Harney’s men, a gruff and profane major named Thorsby. Thorsby had insisted the horsemen stay up on the road, in formation, clearly visible to the outposts that Lee was trying to observe. But Lee was in command, and the horses had been left behind, and despite Thorsby’s grumbling, his men had followed Lee down into the marsh.
Turning and peering through the tops of the reeds, Lee looked for Thorsby, thinking, He does not seem to understand. We do not want a confrontation, not here. We don’t need to have a squad of their cavalry riding down our throats.
He saw the faces of Thorsby’s men, watching him with simmering disgust, their feet as wet and muddy as his. He nodded to them, thought, Sorry, gentlemen. The cavalry does not get all the good jobs. He also saw Thorsby, pushing through a tall patch of grass, slapping at insects with his hat. Thorsby pushed aside a man, who stumbled and fell to his knees.
Thorsby ignored him, moved up close to Lee, spoke in an angry hiss, “How much farther, Captain? You comfortable down here in this damned swamp?”
Lee stared at the man, ignored his dark anger for the moment, said nothing. Orders, Major, he thought, you have orders. I shouldn’t have to argue with you.
“Major Thorsby, we will proceed below the road until I can observe that village up ahead. We might be very close to the enemy, and I need to determine what kind of enemy we are facing. Do you understand that General Scott might very well use this route to make his assault on the city?”
“Captain, General Scott will not march his men through the mud. It would take them until Christmas to even find the enemy in this mess.”
Lee turned, looked out over the grass in front of him and a distant line of low adobe houses. He raised his field glasses, looked for a moment, then said, “Maj
or, we will advance as ordered. Have your men follow me.”
Thorsby said nothing, and Lee could hear the men spreading out behind him, moving up on either side. Good, he thought, he may not like this, but he does remember his orders. He looked back, saw Thorsby pushing his way to one side, heard a low mumble, some comment about West Point. Lee took a deep breath, thought, Let’s keep moving. We have work to do.
THE MOST DIRECT ROUTE TO THE CITY WOULD TAKE SCOTT’S army straight into the eastern gates, and Lee had been assigned the job of feeling out the route and the Mexican strength that might occupy it.
Below, on the roads leading to the south of the city, other scouting parties were at work as well, slipping discreetly beside the raised roadways as he was, the only way to make a close observation without coming under fire from the cannon that Lee still expected to find.
The grass was still wet, taller now, and he could hear curses as the soldiers fought the thorns of some new tormentor, a thick vine that wound its way out of the mud. Then the water was deeper and he stopped, straining to see farther ahead, but even the village in front of him was gone from view. He tried to move to one side, but his foot was held tight. He pulled hard to free himself, felt his boot sliding off his foot. Major Thorsby may be right, he thought. This may be as far as we can go. He worked his foot around, slowly pulled it free. He looked behind him at the soldiers, who had stopped again. He motioned toward the road, and the grass seemed to come alive with the surge of men, all making their way quickly to the comfort of hard ground. He pushed clear of the grass and climbed the soft dirt embankment at the side of the road. Pulling himself up to the hard surface, he saw Thorsby, smiling, waiting for him.
